


maps

by snowdrops



Series: writing with snowdrops (dgm) [1]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 20:19:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6674119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowdrops/pseuds/snowdrops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every scar on his hand tells a different story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	maps

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [tumblr](https://rielity.tumblr.com/post/143439397773).
> 
> Inspired by [this quote](http://imjust-a-girl.tumblr.com/post/124898473633):  
> 
>
>> _Of all the things my hands have held the best by far is you._

Her fingers unfurl his fists, soft touch roaming over the calluses and scars he bears on his palms. There is black ink on the back of his fingers, from his record-keeping a while ago. She smudges it with a gentle caress of her thumb, watching as it spreads over his skin like a tattoo.

He looks at her, bemused. “What are you thinking about, Lena?”

“Where’s this scar from?” she asks instead, finger running over an ugly jagged line that runs from between his index finger and thumb to the knuckle of his fourth finger.

“The July Revolution in 1830,” he replies, the events coming to mind as clear as they were the day they unfolded. It was a short but impactful revolution, everything unfolding in three days. He had been nicked by a short dagger on the second day; the wound had been small but deep and had taken a long time to recover, to his frustration.

Her eyes are wide with curiousity; he doesn’t blame her. All her life she’s been trapped in this bleak black castle, the only war she knows has existed before she was born and has not stopped.

Her fingers quickly run to the next mark, a cut down his hypothenar muscles that has barely scabbed over.

“Last mission,” he grins wryly. “Rusty fence.”

She rolls her eyes at him. “You killed three Level Threes but got scratched by a rusty fence of all things?”

He raises his hands in surrender, bringing hers up as he does so. “Hey, it’s okay, I got a tetanus jab three missions ago.”

She makes some grumbling noises, but goes back to her exploration of his right palm.

“This?”

He looks at the small white scar and almost snorts. “I stabbed myself with my pen by accident halfway through the Yagan Resistance. Why are you picking all my embarrassing scars? I have heroic ones too, you know!”

Her hand slacks as she stares at him in disbelief. “I’m actually impressed that you’re still alive.”

“How could you say that? You wound me, Lena,” he whines, but takes the chance to interlock their fingers and lean in to whisper conspiratorially in her ear.

“You know, out of all the things I’ve held in my hand, I still like you the most. Even though you hurt me too.”

He revels in the light pink that dusts her cheeks.

/ 398 words.

**Author's Note:**

> Total editing time: 46 minutes.
> 
> Timeline reference: [Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_wars_1800%E2%80%9399). 


End file.
